


Boiled 'Dogs

by boomturkey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Frottage, Groping, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Spring Nationals, Underage Sex, canon adjacent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:01:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28512330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boomturkey/pseuds/boomturkey
Summary: Hinata is late for his bath and runs into a rival there.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 63
Kudos: 705





	Boiled 'Dogs

**Author's Note:**

> **Do please mind the tags & archive warnings**. If you’re made uncomfortable by the content I ask that you not read the fic. Thank you.

Hinata Shouyou is late for his bath.

It’s not his fault! He’s gotten caught up and distracted. There are just so many videos online from their game earlier, and he'd needed to text Kenma, and then Kenma had told him about comment sections under the videos and the next thing Hinata knows, it's an hour later and he's engrossed in the drama between two users hotly debating the validity of three-set matches versus five-set matches.

It wouldn’t be much of a problem if the baths at their ryokan were actually working, and he could just go downstairs to wash up... but unfortunately, those baths are apparently undergoing renovations. The madam is kind enough to hand out passes for the local public bath, just down the street from where they are staying. The rest of the team had gone off already and Hinata had meant to join them—he'd just gotten distracted.

So when his senpai return, shoving him out of the ryokan, towel and his toiletries tucked under his arms, Hinata figures now might make for as good a time as any for a bath.

He manages to arrive at the baths just as the other first years are leaving, putting their jackets back on as Hinata walks in. He takes their teasing cheerfully, waving everyone off, not fully parsing Kageyama’s “Enjoy your bath alone, dumbass,” as they leave until a moment later.

Wait, alone?

Hinata turns to look at the cashier, slumped back in his chair, using a magazine to cover his yawn as he squints blearily at Hinata through his glasses. “Looks like you might be the last for the night.”

“There’s no one else in the baths right now?” Hinata asks, eyebrows high on his forehead, trying and failing to keep his voice level to mask his growing excitement.

The cashier shrugs, taking Hinata's proffered bath pass, handing him a locker key. “Slow night. I’ll be shocked if I get any more customers tonight.” Hinata grips the key and is about to turn, but the cashier doesn’t let go. “Try and keep the splashing to a minimum, alright?”

Hinata gives him a wide, cheery smile, feeling like a liar when he chirps his “Yup!”

If by ‘minimum’ the cashier means 'go absolutely buckwild in the water,' then he is _absolutely_ going to keep it to a ‘minimum.'

Bobbing a little bow, Hinata tries to keep an unhurried pace as he walks towards the change rooms, feeling himself already vibrating with excitement. He is gonna do so many friggin' handstands, he can’t wait. He spins the keys on his fingers, feeling pretty casual as he walks into the empty men’s change room, humidity cloying the air.

Alone.

A wide grin splits Hinata’s face. Alone!

Stripped of his clothes, Hinata shoves them into one of the baskets, wraps his towel around his waist and walks into the large, tiled room of the public baths. He waves at the steamy fog obstructing his view, thick enough that he can only just faintly see the sunken bathtubs waiting warm and open for him on the far side of the room. Hinata can’t see anyone else in the baths, no telltale shift of a body through the water. So he really is alone, huh?

Super duper _alone_.

Hinata can’t keep the impish grin off his face. He never gets to be alone in a sento! If he is alone, that means there isn’t anyone around to yell at him for splashing around too much, or moving too much, or being too loud, or—

He squats next to each of the tubs, dipping a hand in to feel for temperature, and while a super-mega hot bath would be _amazing_ right now, the big tub is big enough that he can swim in it and do some somersaults without braining himself against the side of the pool. Hinata tucks his towel and toiletries safely onto one of the stools, does a quick rinse with soap at one of the faucets, and then takes one last glance around the room before gleefully cannonballing into the water.

He emerges, swiping damp hair out of his face, beaming. No telltale squawks of indignation from grumpy old men. No heavy sighs from younger office workers. Just Hinata, all alone in an enormous pool of hot water. Feeling a bit vindicated in his decision to be distracted earlier, Hinata rolls backwards to do an underwater handstand, his legs and butt dangling out of the water.

When he rights himself, shaking his head out like a dog, Hinata can’t believe the endless possibilities that lay in front of him. How lucky! Every goofy, annoying, borderline-rude idea he’s ever wanted to try in a sento lays before him. Spoiled for choice.

Once he’s gotten used to the size of the tub, he’s definitely going to try backflipping into the water from the ledge.

It is going to be _awesome_.

Hinata is just doggy-paddling across the expanse of the large tub, trying to decide what he should do first—maybe an impromptu shampoo-based bubble bath in the super hot tub?—when he hears the entryway door slide open. He freezes, unable to see who it is through the fog. Is it the sleepy cashier from before? Maybe he’s heard Hinata splashing around too much already? There’s an apology on the tip of Hinata’s tongue when a voice calls out from the door.

“Gah, it’s fuckin’ steamy as heck in here.”

Hinata blinks, paddling closer to the edge of the pool, squinting into the steam, trying to make out the blurred figure of someone moving towards him. WHas that kansai-ben?

“Oi, is there someone else in here?” The voice calls again, a clipped edge to it this time. Hinata’s pretty sure he recognizes that voice...

 _I’m gonna toss to ya one day_.

Through the steam stands one of the Miya twins, eyes squinted as he steps closer to the pool, blonde hair already curling in the humidity of the room. Hinata watches the expression on his face go from suspiciously peevish to slackened with surprise. This is the one who made that promise to him earlier, right? The setter. The one who would set for Hinata one day. What’s his name again?

Os— no, Amu— no, wait. It ends in —mu, it definitely ends in ‘mu’.

“S-Shouyou-kun?” His eyes bug out in surprise and Hinata would start sweating if he weren’t already soaking, getting pruney in the overlarge pool. It is kinda bad that this guy knows Hinata’s name, but Hinata can’t remember his name in return, right?

Hinata gives him a too-bright smile. “Uh, hi!”

Blonde-setter-Miya-kun keeps gaping down at Hinata, hand gripping the towel at his waist, chest decidedly very naked in a very eye-catching way. Hinata recalls thinking the Miya twins had been pretty cool during their game earlier.

He had thought that it was just pure volleyball appreciation, but looking at this Miya twin in front of him, maybe it's more than their volleyball skill that's caught Hinata's eye .

For instance, those thighs...

Hinata watches as this twin’s eyebrows come down, picture-perfect confusion. His eyes flick over Hinata, floating on his stomach, butt cheeks cooling out of the water in the steamy air. “What the f—” Setter-Miya abruptly cuts himself off, swallowing and averting his eyes, his cheeks already flushed from the steam. “Ya hang out in baths with yer ass out often?”

Hinata twists around to look at his heels and the curve of his butt peeking out of the water’s surface before looking back up at setter-Miya. “I guess sometimes?”

For some reason, Miya clicks his tongue, face going pinchy. Hinata isn’t exactly sure what he’s done—oooohh. Maybe he is still a little bit salty about losing earlier? Hinata supposes he probably wouldn’t have liked having a bath with anyone from Seijoh after their loss last summer.

Setter-Miya crosses his arms—those are kind of nice too—glowering down at him. “Ya gonna make it weird if I join ya?”

Hinata tips his head to the side, crouching in the water so his feet touch down on the tile beneath him. “No? Weird how? There’s plenty of room.” To demonstrate, he reaches both arms out and slaps the water, giving setter-Miya what he thinks is a pretty welcoming grin.

Setter-Miya hesitates only for a moment before he clicks his tongue again, tossing his towel on a nearby stool—Hinata has the brief impression of a surprising amount of girth through the steambefore it vanishes, hidden beneath the water’s surface as setter-Miya dunks himself. He disappears under the water’s surface, head and all, emerging with a hiss, slicking his hair back, water running down the sides of his face, mouth, neck, chest—

Hinata feels his mouth go dry, suddenly hyper-aware of the amount of nudity going on in this room.

Setter-Miya wrinkles his nose at Hinata. “That’s hotter than I thought.”

Hinata bounces between his feet, crouched so that his chin is just barely hovering above the water’s surface. His stomach is all wormy and wiggly and his fingers feel twitchy. “The next bath over is even hotter.”

Miya blinks at him, before turning to the nearest steaming pool and sticks his hand in the water. He jerks it back with a yelp. “Goddamn! Are all old people the same, with their hot as fuck baths everywhere?”

Hinata isn’t sure if he actually wants an answer, but now that he thinks about it, the old men in his town are all like that too, only ever spending time in the hottest water they can. “Huh, maybe? I’ve never thought about it before.”

That gets Miya to turn to face him, sinking into the water until he's the same height as Hinata, his chin just above the water’s surface, too. He gives Hinata a funny look. “Why exactly are ya here? Shouldn’t ya be hangin’ out with that team of yours?”

Hinata begins treading water, sticking his legs out in front of him, trying to keep his head above water using his arms only. “They already came and went. I got here late and I needed a bath.”

It looks like Miya is sucking on his teeth, eyeing the water with distaste.”Yer team can’t afford a proper hotel with its own bath?”

The way he says it is kind of condescending, but based on his expression, Hinata is pretty sure he is genuinely concerned and trying to cover it up. Like what Tsukishima does sometimes. “It can! It's just the ryokan we’re staying at is currently undergoing renovations.” Okay, that scoff is a little less nice. “What about you, why’re you here... Miya-san?”

Good save, Shouyou. _Smooth_.

Miya pushes off, settling himself along the edge near the middle of the pool, one arm hooked on the ledge. He averts his eyes, looking at the far wall beyond where Hinata is fidgeting in the water. “Wasn’t feelin’ bath time with the rest of my team.”

Hinata blinks, not familiar enough with Miya to know what that expression means. He feels like there is probably something he is definitely missing. “Oh.” Miya flicks a glance at him, before looking away. “Why?” Hinata asks.

Miya hooks his other arm on the edge of the pool, elbows bent, really showing off how wide his chest is. Does he know it’s kind of distracting? “Just ‘cause.”

Hinata pauses in the water, pursing his lips. If Miya’s going to be sulky about it, he can say it straight, or act like everything’s normal. None of this useless business. “Yeah, but why?”

Okay, that expression is definitely annoyed. “‘Cause it’s none of your business,” Miya bites out, glowering at him.

“Mmkay.” Hinata goes back to paddling around, frog kicking his legs. He enjoys the way it nyooms him through the water, so he does it again. “But do you, maybe, kinda want to talk about it?”

The strangled noise Miya makes is similar enough to the one Kageyama makes before he threatens to dunk Hinata during bath times that it triggers a Pavlovian response: he plants his feet on the ground and squares his shoulders, ready to fight back if necessary. Instead, setter-Miya just gives him a funny look.

“Shouyou-kun, what makes ya think I wanna discuss _anything_ with ya right now? Y'a ever think maybe I came here to have a nice quiet bath to myself?”

Hinata squints at him, unable to tell if this is one of those polite circle-talk conversation things that Ennoshita had tried to explain to him once. Where sometimes people want you to go without saying it outright. “I got here first, I’m not leaving yet.”

Miya sighs, tipping his head back against the tile and closing his eyes. “I didn’t say ya have to leave—just maybe I don’t wanna talk about it, huh?”

“Oh, okay.” Hinata goes back to kicking off the far wall, gliding through the water, watching setter-Miya out of the corner of his eyes. “It’s just, you were so chatty before and after the game earlier, I thought you might want to talk more, Miya-san.” Like maybe he wants to talk about setting to Hinata some more? That would be kinda cool.

That gets Miya to open his eyes, head still tipped back so it looks like he is glaring at the ceiling. He lifts his head slowly to stare at Hinata, expression kind of blank. “What makes ya think I wanna talk to _you_ , of all people?”

Oh! Hinata actually has an answer for this. Good ol' Yachi, teaching him new things! “Because I’m an unbiased ob—sub—ob? —jective third party who is happy to listen.” Okay, he doesn’t remember the wording, but— “I promise I won’t judge you and maybe getting it off your chest will help you relax?”

Hinata kind of hopes it doesn’t have to do with their two teams, and the whole thing where Hinata won earlier, because he isn’t sure that is going to be a pleasant conversation. But fighting with your own team? Hinata has lots of practice with that.

Miya averts his eyes again, looking at some point on the far wall, obscured by the heavy fog in the room. After what feels like an eternity where Hinata more than once considers going back to his frog kicks around the pool, Miya finally sucks in a breath.

“It’s just pretty shitty being around them right now, is all.”

Hinata’s fingers wiggle out of the water, watching Miya glower off to the side. “Why? Did something happen?”

The look Miya throws at Hinata is pretty scathing. _Oh_. “‘Cause we were the favorites to win it all and we got our asses handed to us in the first fuckin’ round by a no-name team.”

Hinata finds himself bristling. Karasuno isn’t a no-name team! They just haven’t made it to Nationals in a few years. And— “It was the second round.”

Setter-Miya quirks his jaw, narrowing his eyes. Hinata lifts his chin, glowering back. “It was the second round today.” Hinata sets his mouth into a firm line, staring Miya in the eye. “And it was a really good game today. Maybe the best game of my life.”

 _Definitely_ the best game of Hinata’s life. Has Miya not seen his receive? Or that block at the end—Hinata’s gaze almost falters from Miya’s face, figuring he probably _does_ remember that time, just a few hours ago, when he and Kageyama had gotten there _just_ in time to block the Miya twins’ quick.

Miya stares right back at him, face implacable. Hinata wonders if maybe things are going to get awkward now. Hopefully he won’t have to leave and Miya will just go, already sick of him. Go back to his team to sulk, or whatever. And Hinata can do his handstands in peace.

Until finally setter-Miya’s brows quirk and he looks away to snort. Shaking his head, he throws Hinata a lazy half-smile. “Yeah, I guess it was pretty good.” Miya tips up his chin, looking down his nose at Hinata. “I’m still gonna kick your ass next year, though.”

Hinata bares his teeth back in a challenging grin, waving his hands just below the surface of the water to make it swirl. “I’d like to see you try.” If anything, Miya’s grin just increases in ferocity. It makes Hinata think that maybe Miya is the type of person to bite back? The thought sends more warm wiggles to his stomach.

“Did you mean what you said after the game?”

Miya blinks, cocking his head to the side, lips pursing. “And what, exactly, do ya think I said?”

Hinata licks his lips, sinking into a crouch in the water. “The thing about setting to me one day.”

Miya stares at him for a beat, face kind of lazy and looking a little bored, before he lifts a palm out of the water, smacking it against the surface, sending a large splashy wave directly at Hinata. It smacks him in the face, too warm for having his face out of the water for so long.

Hinata gasps and chokes, wiping water out of his eyes and nose and mouth, feeling like an angry, dunked cat. He glares at Miya’s smug smirk. “What was that for!?”

Miya’s smirk widens, going a bit toothy. He gives a laconic shrug. “Felt like it.”

Hinata wipes at his face once more with both hands, flicking water off his fingers. “Well, don’t make promises you won’t keep, then, jeez.”

Of course he'd gotten Hinata’s hopes up. He might not be able to remember the guy’s full name, but that isn’t any reason why Hinata shouldn’t be allowed to be excited for one of the best setters in the country promising to set for _him_ one day. If anything, it was rude as heck for this jerkface to promise something like that in front of witnesses—Hinata had even asked Kageyama afterwards if it'd been just his imagination. Only to walk it back? Rude! Awful! Just plain old _mean_!

“I never said I wasn’t gonna keep my promise.”

Hinata stills, brushing hair out of his face to squint at Miya. “What d'you mean?”

Miya is back to lazing against the wall of the pool, stretching and flexing his wrists, eyes tracking the movement. “I keep my promises, Shouyou-kun.” Miya’s eyes flick up to meet his, lips curling in amusement. “I am gonna toss for ya one day—after I kick your ass.”

Hinata’s breath stalls in his chest for a moment before he remembers how to get his lungs to work properly again. He gives Miya a huge smile. “Good! Then I look forward to it.” That makes Miya laugh, and it’s such a nice, almost surprised sound that Hinata finds he wants to make Miya do it again. “Though I won’t go down easy, Miya-san.”

Miya’s smirk twists and pulls into something a little more genuine, a little more toothy and gleeful. “I wouldn’t expect anything less of ya, Shouyou-kun.”

Hinata beams back, pushing back through the water so he can glide towards the wall behind him, happy to continue his swimming. Miya looks content to fuss with his nails now, the air in the room an awful lot less tense. He’s just skimming across the water’s surface on his stomach again when Miya’s voice pulls his attention.

“Ya know, you can call me by my first name.” Miya is lazing back against the wall, head canted to the side, looking stupidly, devilishly handsome. Hinata is beginning to suspect that it is purposeful. There is no way he isn’t doing that on purpose.

Miya looks at him expectantly, raising an eyebrow in a way that makes Hinata want to bite him. His thoughts are getting kinda muzzy. “Hmm?”

The corner of Miya’s mouth curls up and that does absolutely nothing for Hinata’s biting impulse. “I said, _Shouyou-kun_ , ya can feel free to call me by my first name. It’s weird for ya to call me ‘Miya-san’, what with us being such good friends and all now.”

Hinata blinks. Friends? Since when? And then dawning horrified realization creeps over him. Oh no. Sucking his lower lip into his mouth, already afraid he’s given himself away, Hinata shrugs all fake-casual. “I dunno, that doesn’t seem very proper. I should be respectful, right?”

That sounds plausible right? Like how Ennoshita might speak, maybe? Right?

Setter-Miya squints at him from his corner of the pool. Hinata’s fingers flicker over the water’s surface, wanting to go back to kicking off the edges of the pool. “Ya don’t remember my name, do ya?”

Hinata pauses, but it’s enough to give him away. Miya gives an unimpressed scoff, arms hooking on the edge of the pool, jaw set with annoyance as he glowers at Hinata—like how _dare_ he have the audacity to not remember one rival's name. It’s not like it’s Hinata’s fault his name is so similar to his twin’s! They even have the same face. If it weren’t for that whole promise thing earlier, Hinata is pretty sure he wouldn’t have even really noticed that each Miya twin has a unique dye-job.

“It’s uh, Miya-san, right?” No! Stupid! He doesn’t want you calling him that!

That answer apparently isn’t satisfactory because he snorts, rolling his eyes, looking real pissy now. “Glad I didn’t leave that much of an impression on ya, Shouyou-kun.”

Hinata pouts, leaning back to tread water, his toes peeking above the surface in front of him. “No! You did. I just. It’s, uh.” He squints, hoping the yellow hair will spark some secret memory he shoved out of his brain hours ago. They’ve watched so much game tape yesterday, he should be able to remember, right? Right?

“Osu-tsamu-san?”

That earns Hinata the flattest, most unimpressed look he’s ever received in his whole life. “What the fuck kinda name is Osu-tsamu?”

Hinata wiggles his toes, nose scrunching as he tries to remember. “Miya...” and then it finally hits him. Beaming, Hinata rolls forward to move closer, giving him a face-splitting grin. “Atsumu-san!”

Atsumu’s mouth is all pinchy like he’s still pouting, but his brow has at least smoothed out so he doesn’t look as grumpy. “Don’t be so proud of yourself. Ya shoulda remembered my name in the first place.”

“Why?” Hinata cocks his head to the side, “We only met the once.”

For some reason that seems to shock Atsumu, all wide-eyed and mouth hanging open, before he scowls. “Maybe I ain’t gonna toss to ya after all.”

Hinata gasps, pushing to a stand, the water deep enough that it laps at his hip bones. “No! Why!? I’m sorry! I promise to always remember your name from now until forever, okay?” Hinata claps his hands together in front of him, ducking his head to really sell how contrite he’s trying to be.

Atsumu still looks pouty as he looks off to the side, shrugging his shoulders, flicking a glance at Hinata out of the corner of his eye. “Fine, if you’re gonna beg.”

Hinata blinks, lifting his head to look at Atsumu. “Wait, really? It’s that easy?”

Now it’s Atsumu’s turn to look confused. “Easy?”

Hinata sinks back into the water to his shoulders, eyeing Atsumu suspiciously. “You’re still going to toss for me?”

“Yeah? The heck do ya mean ‘easy’?”

“Well, normally I have to ask like a hundred times to convince someone to toss for me.” Hinata rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Usually there’s way more begging involved.”

Atsumu stares at him blankly like he doesn’t understand what the heck Hinata is talking about, and then his nose wrinkles. “Tobio-kun is such a prick.”

Hinata snorts. “Well yeah, but it’s not just him. There’s also Kenma and Akaashi-san, and even Suga-san can be pretty stingy, if you ask me.” Waaaayy too stingy for Hinata’s tastes. As if only twenty tosses would ever be enough for him.

Atsumu wipes a hand down his face, muttering to himself. “Fuckin’ ungrateful bastards.” And then he heaves a sigh. “Whatever, Shouyou-kun, one day you’re gonna hit my tosses and we ain’t gonna quit until _I’m_ satisfied.”

He kind of leers, like he’s trying to be intimidating, but his words have the opposite effect on Hinata. His smile stretches so wide his cheeks hurt and his stomach is even more wiggly and warm than before, making him want to do a somersault in the water—so he does. When he resurfaces he gives Atsumu what he thinks is a _very_ cool thumbs up. “Sounds good to me.”

Atsumu looks baffled, like maybe he’s just super stunned at how cool Hinata’s flip in the water was. “Do ya always move around so friggin' much?”

Hinata laughs, dragging his hands over the surface of the water. “Maybe.” Hinata flicks a look around the steamy room, at all the empty stools and spouts. Just him and Atsumu here. He looks back at Atsumu and gives him a grin. “I mean, we are all alone here, right?”

For some reason Atsumu’s throat bobs as he swallows, looking at Hinata the same way one might a hungry predator. “Y-yeah...?”

“And this is, like, the first time I’ve ever been in a public bath without a bunch of grumpy old people to tell me not to splash around.” Atsumu still looks kinda dubious though, so Hinata waves a hand. “If it’ll ruin your bath, I can stop.”

“Wait—you’re just talking about swimming around,” Atsumu’s finger swirls around, gesturing at the baths as a whole, “The baths?”

“Yeah.” With great dignity Hinata withholds a heavy sigh, fingers dipping in and out of the water. “But it’s okay—”

“You can splash around if ya want. I don’t care.”

Hinata _gleams_ , staring at Atsumu’s supposedly disinterested face, trying to detect some sort of trick. There isn’t any. He’s serious. This guy wants to toss for Hinata _and_ he’s willing to let Hinata splash around? If he keeps this up Hinata is going to start thinking Miya Atsumu is _the best_.

He plants his feet, kicking off so he can hit one of the side walls, giving Atsumu a big beaming smile, before he dives like a dolphin, cutting under the water to the other side with the force of one kick. He doesn’t bother coming up for air, instead twisting in the water to kick off the wall again and jets through the water back to where he started.

He emerges from the water with a gasp, grin on his face, peeking to see if Atsumu is still okay with it, but he is just looking benevolently amused—like how Sawamura does when Hinata, Tanaka, and Noya are doing something goofy but not reckless. Cool!

Enjoying this new sense of freedom, Hinata rolls into a cartwheel, ass in the air, back to Atsumu as he pinwheels through the water, causing a bit of a splash. When Hinata emerges he checks to make sure Atsumu didn’t get caught up in that splash. Instead Atsumu is scrubbing at his face, not looking at Hinata.

“You okay?” Hinata hedges.

Atsumu just keeps scrubbing. “Mhmm, yup. Whatever.”

Figuring he’d prefer to get as much splashing in as possible before Atsumu takes away his privileges, Hinata ducks under the water again, this time cutting through the water backwards, frog kicking across the pool, hands flailing out to keep him upright.

As he passes the middle of the pool, Hinata’s hand slides through water until it comes across a hard but yielding surface. Only for a moment. It takes him another moment to process what he's just touched. By the time he hits the wall he figures it out. That wasn’t the wall, that was Atsumu’s leg. Maybe his thigh? How friggin' big and jacked is he? Who has leg muscles like that?

Popping out of the water, Hinata turns to Atsumu with a grimace, ducking his head. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

Atsumu is scrubbing at his face again. His chest looks really, really red for some reason. Maybe he’s overheating and needs to get out of the water? Atsumu’s voice comes out a little strangled. “It’s fine, whatever.”

Okay, so maybe Hinata kinda has Atsumu at the end of his patience. It’s not like he means to be annoying. And Atsumu did say it was fine. But Hinata is getting pretty good at recognizing when people get exasperated with him. He has to play it cool. Take it nice and easy. He can just do a totally normal pass under the water, yup.

And if that gives him the perfect opportunity to see what the heck kind of pliant rock he’s grazed a moment ago, well, who is Hinata Shouyou to look a gift horse in the mouth? He’s learned to be greedy when opportunities come at him.

He kicks off the wall, more gently, a little slower this time. Keeping his eyes open despite the sting of the warm water, he turns his head to look at where Atsumu’s sitting. Though the water is a bit murky, the fluorescent lights that hang over the baths are more than enough to penetrate the water and let Hinata get a real eyeful of Atsumu’s thighs in high contrast shadow and light.

Holy smokes! Hinata is pretty sure he’s never seen a more jacked pair of thighs in his life. So that’s definitely part of the reason why Atsumu had been able to get so low for those sets earlier today, where he’d gotten under the ball at the very last second. Those large quadriceps practically glow in the mix of bright light and shadow. Most inviting of all is the well-defined line running along the outside of Atsumu’s quad, all the way up to his hip. Hinata has the absurd, grinding need to run his tongue along that crease.

Hinata reaches the other side of the pool, lifting out of the water just enough to catch his breath, staring at the tile under his finger tips. He finds his tongue kind of tingly and his mouth full of saliva. That warm wiggly feeling is suffusing his whole body now. His palms in particular feel itchy.

Hinata absolutely needs to touch one of those thighs again.

But he is going to have to be coy about it. Pretend like there isn’t any intention behind it. Nope, no sirree. Just a happy accident that allows Hinata to get a palmful of Atsumu’s gorgeous thighs. Just the once. Only once. No big deal, right? No one can blame him if he accidentally bumps into Atsumu again and just happens to graze his palm flat against Atsumu’s thigh.

With those gross little creepy thoughts to comfort him, Hinata turns, not even looking at Atsumu as he ducks under the water once more, intent on trying for another “accidental” brush of his hand against Atsumu’s leg.

He makes it to the center of the pool in no time. He reaches forward underneath the water, hands skimming Atsumu’s impressively muscled thighs. Quick enough that it could be an accident. Too quick for Hinata’s satisfaction though. What he wouldn’t give for the chance to give one of Atsumu’s thighs a nice appreciative squeeze. Okay, maybe just one more.

Hinata continues on his path to the opposite wall, surreptitiously watching Atsumu’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. Atsumu’s face is red, but that could be from the heat, his eyelids droopy and heavy, watching Hinata right back.

Hinata doesn’t apologize this time.

Instead he kicks off the wall, eyes skimming the surface of the water, trying to play it cool as he swipes past Atsumu again. If he times his stroke _juuust_ right, he should be able to brush his fingers over the swell of Atsumu’s thigh again. For science. It is just really muscular, and Hinata kinda needs to know just _how_ muscular. The more data he has, the better he can imagine sinking his teeth into one of them later—for science.

Hinata manages to drag his fingers a little bit higher than Atsumu’s left knee as his arm cuts through the water—totally accidentally of course! No intentions here. Nope, just some guy gliding through the water, maybe accidentally bumping into all the other guys in the pool. Yup.

Though poking his fingers in the bony part below the meat of Atsumu’s thigh really isn’t very satisfying for Hinata. He’d much rather get more of a grope like he did that last time. At least a palmful of Atsumu’s legs, right? How else is he going to be able to figure out how Atsumu does those limbo sets?

Hinata rolls his neck, absolutely nailing nonchalance in his opinion, stretching his shoulders out before he turns, definitely not looking at Atsumu through his eyelashes—Iis Atsumu looking a bit squinty? The expression kinda reminds him of the face Tsukishima gets when he is cottoning on to something Hinata is doing, like his fourth bathroom break in a 45 minute study session. But unlike Tsukishima, Atsumu isn’t really saying anything, so maybe he isn't actually onto Hinata.

Or… better yet… maybe he _is_ and Atsumu just doesn’t **care**.

Hinata lets that sense of confidence carry him forward as he presses his heels into the wall behind him once, gliding through the water for the third time, intent on getting his palmful. Maybe he should have been striving for a bit more subtlety, because this time Hinata’s hand strokes forward, cutting wide under the water, fingers just barely managing to skim the _very_ nice muscle curving around Atsumu’s upper thigh, when a hand snaps over his wrist.

It’s Atsumu’s hand, his eyebrows high on his forehead as he glowers down at Hinata. “Just what the heck do ya think you’re doing?”

Hinata floats, frozen despite the warm water, unable to get his synapses to fire in a way that will let him tug his hand back. Atsumu’s hold is firm, and Hinata’s pretty sure he’s not getting free without a fight. Hinata glares at Atsumu through the wet spikes of his eyelashes, hoping that if he looks menacing enough, Atsumu will just let him go.

It doesn’t work.

“Nothing.” He sounds petulant to his own ears. Licking his lips, he tries again. “I’m just swimming around, you said you didn’t have a problem with it.”

Atsumu looks extremely unimpressed. One brow cocks like he can hear how thin that excuse is. “Yeah, sure. No problem at all… when ya ain’t tryna grope me.”

Hinata inhales sharply, scandalized, feeling his cheeks prickle with further heat. He looks Atsumu in the eye—the best strategy when you’re not being totally honest—and sets his chin. “I wasn’t trying to grope you, it’s not my fault you’re in the way. I’m just here swimming, having a good ol' relaxing soak in the baths…”

Atsumu’s eyes narrow a little, still looking pretty suspicious. “You’re a little bit of a shit, huh?” Hinata’s head rears back, offended, but Atsumu releases him, letting him retreat to the far side of the pool until his back is pressing up against the condensation-slick tile. Atsumu shrugs, mouth tilted, not quite amused. “Guess that kinda tracks.”

Hinata tilts his head to the side, feeling himself bristle. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Atsumu dips his hands into the water, lifts them to scrub at his face again, obviously feigning disinterest in Hinata—it sends a prickle of something not quite like irritation boiling up his spine. The same thing that wants people's eyes on him. Wants people to notice **him**. Atsumu examines his fingernails and Hinata grinds his teeth.

“Nothin’. Just do whatever you want.”

It’s the smirk that does it. Miya Atsumu, that antagonistic bastard, doesn’t know he’s playing with fire. You don’t just goad Hinata Shouyou. Not if you don’t want him to come back at you with 100% more intensity—not if you don’t want to lose. _Again_ , Hinata thinks maliciously, a wide sunny smile spreading across his face.

“Okay,” he chirps, going back to his paddling around the warm pool. Oh, it’s _on_.

If Atsumu thinks he was being “obvious” before, well boy does Hinata have news for him now. Palmfuls are so passe— now Hinata is all about riling Atsumu up until he snaps. Yup. What better way to guarantee he gets the bath aaaalll to himself than to chase Atsumu away ‘cause he can’t handle the heat?

He’s learned over the last year to bide his time a little bit more, to be just a smiiidge less impulsive, so Hinata goes about his business, just floating through the water… firstly on his back, and after his second pass, on his front. Atsumu makes some sort of choking noise—and he _keeps_ doing it every time Hinata passes him by. Hinata switches to frog kicking around the water, chin barely above the surface, butt cheeks cooling in the damp air.

The eighth time he does it, Atsumu is barely paying him any attention anymore, head tipped back, squinting at the ceiling—Hinata’s kinda glad he’s not in a talking mood; he's pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to keep the anticipation out of his voice. Hinata knows it’s the perfect time to strike. Trying to suppress an impish grin, Hinata gently kicks off from the wall, arms cutting through the water until he reaches the midpoint of the pool, right in front of Atsumu. Hinata then uses his arms to transfer his momentum, feet kicking out to press him backwards towards the wall opposite Atsumu’s... but not before Hinata’s toes graze the underside of Atsumu’s inner thigh.

It has the desired effect: Atsumu jerks, yelping a bit as he jolts forward, staring at Hinata wide-eyed, just as Hinata makes it to the opposite wall, hooking his elbows on the ledge. He gives Atsumu his most serene smile. Atsumu glares right back.

“The fuck was that?”

“I thought I saw some dookie in the water and I swerved to avoid it.” Hinata says, all contrived innocence. He knows Atsumu knows he’s full of crap, lips pressed all firmly, his eyes narrow. It sends something like that same wiggly warmth curling through Hinata’s stomach. _Yes, notice **me**_.

Atsumu’s eyes flick over the surface of the water before coming to simmer on Hinata’s face again. “I don’t see shit.”

Hinata snorts, biting back a grin. Shrugs innocently, though it doesn’t look like Atsumu buys it **at all**. “Must’ve been a shadow or something, I guess.” And he goes back to paddling around the pool of water, treading water where he can, angling himself away from Atsumu, like he doesn’t have a single care in the whooooole world.

He’s definitely not plotting anything. Nope.

Stage two is gonna involve a little more obnoxious behaviour; hopefully it’s not enough to make the cashier come running. Hinata waits for some of the suspicious tension in Atsumu’s shoulders to loosen before he starts trying to execute handstands in the water, collapsing forward like he doesn’t have the control to let himself down easy.

It’s all about making it _look_ like he doesn’t have any control. It’s perfect. Then he can flail and fall and have to plant one of his hands on Atsumu’s upper thigh. _Really_ get that palmful Hinata wants.

Hinata executes a few sloppy handstands in quick succession, until he’s in the middle of the pool, close enough to touch Atsumu if he reaches, and he bends to plant his hands on the tile beneath the water’s surface. He’s just angling to twist around when he suddenly feels long fingers stroke the underside of his ass, making Hinata gasp and choke on water.

When he emerges, coughing and spitting, swiping water out of his eyes, Hinata shoots Atsumu a glare. He is looking awfully pleased with himself. “What the heck was that?” he squawks, making Atsumu’s lazy grin widen.

“Sorry, thought I saw _some ‘dookie’_ or _something_.” Atsumu’s grin is all sleaze and Hinata wants to wipe it the heck off his face _right now_.

Hinata sniffs, trying to get control of the situation again. “And you wanted to touch it, gross.”

Atsumu stares him straight in the eye, grin going all smug. “What can I say, I just couldn’t help myself.”

Hinata is going to escalate on this jerkface so _hard_.

Shrugging like it doesn’t bother him in the _slightest_ , Hinata bounces across the pool, formulating his next attack. Okay, so Atsumu is going to play back, huh? Well then, Hinata is just going to have to up the ante, isn’t he? Maybe this time instead of shooting for Atsumu’s very nice, grabbable thighs, he’ll aim a little higher.

Hinata’s belly button has always been pretty ticklish, and he bets that hearing Atsumu’s high-pitched shriek of laughter would be almost as sweet as the sound of a volleyball smashing to the ground for the final point of a set.

He takes his position, going for a dynamic cartwheel to handstand set up—then all he’ll have to do is twist under the water and reach beyond Atsumu’s wonderful, wonderful thighs and tickle that belly-button. Hinata wonders idly if Atsumu has an innie or an outie—he can’t wait to find out.

Hinata manages to execute his deft movement, just twisting out of his somersault as Atsumu leans forward. Hinata’s fully submerged but he does manage to get in a quick jab, dragging fingernails over Atsumu’s frustratingly solid abdomen as he’s bodily lifted out of the water by big strong hands on his waist.

There’s some slipping, making Hinata faceplant into Atsumu’s chest, and an undignified squawk from Atsumu as he careens backwards, landing on one of the underwater ledges. When they’ve both caught their breath, Hinata swipes water and hair out of his eyes, trying to glare at an equally flushed and soaked Atsumu.

“What the heck, Atsumu-san!” he grouses.

Atsumu looks pretty offended as he shakes his head like a dog, flicking wet hair out of his eyes, managing to splatter Hinata in the process. It’s only after he’s stopped and Hinata is done wiping more water droplets off his face that he notes their position. That whole thing where Hinata has landed in Atsumu’s lap. With Atsumu’s large hands bracketing his hips, holding him in place.

Ah.

If Hinata thought the warm, wiggly feeling was bad before, straddling Atsumu’s _very_ impressive thighs while he sits on one of the underwater ledges and being inches away from Atsumu’s extremely nice face is doing him no favours. His stomach is basically an overexcited, steamy whirlpool at this point.

“Don’tcha ‘what the heck Atsumu-san’ me!”

Hinata isn’t sure he likes the high pitch Atsumu uses to inflect Hinata’s voice. He isn’t that squeaky! Rude. “You were tryna be a weird little creep again.”

Hinata snorts, almost crossing his arms, realizing halfway through the motion that Atsumu’s arms are in the way. So instead he lets them hang off to the sides, though Hinata is sorely tempted to bring them up to start feeling up Atsumu’s shoulders instead. What can he possibly need all that muscle for? “Says you, going around smacking people’s butts.”

Atsumu scoffs. “That was just me gettin’ my licks in—” Atsumu’s eyes widen comically as he swallows and starts again. Hinata wants to feel that throat bob with his tongue. “That was me getting revenge for yer being a gross little weirdo.”

“You think me accidentally touching your leg a couple of times is the same thing as you touching my butt?” Hinata wishes he were the type of person who could condescendingly raise an eyebrow at someone, like Tsukishima, but alas. He settles for skeptical instead.

“Accidentally, my ass.” Atsumu scoffs, fingers tightening almost imperceptibly at Hinata’s hips. “There ain’t _no way_ ya weren’t doing that one on purpose.”

Hinata finds the brief, bare squeeze of those hands makes him want to scoot closer, or further, or just move around enough until Atsumu does it again and again and again and—

“Oi, Shouyou-kun?”

Hinata blinks, brain too mushy for anything useful. “Huh?”

“I asked where ya get off being such a little creep?” There is something about the tilt of his mouth that makes Hinata think that maybe this is less a criticism, and more like he is being teased.

Hinata flicks the tip of his tongue against his teeth, weighing his options. Atsumu is definitely stronger than him, so his chances of fighting his way out of Atsumu’s grasp are pretty much nil. Plus there is the whole thing where Hinata’s ass is seated on Atsumu’s very, _very_ nice thighs. Which is basically all Hinata has been angling for this whole time, even if he’d meant for his hands to do the grop— _exploratory touching_. He isn’t getting off this magnificent throne. Not yet, at least.

He is just starting to think of how he might lowkey lean a hand back to cop another feel of Atsumu’s legs when the fingers holding his hips in place flex again. This time the sensation sends a spike of heat ratcheting up into his brain, hotwiring his fine motor skills. The next thing Hinata knows, his hips are rocking forward involuntarily, chasing whatever the heck that feeling has just been.

In front of him, face inches from his own, Atsumu’s eyes bug out. “W-what do ya think you’re doing—”

And then he cuts off with a strangled gasp, fingers clenching tight around Hinata’s hips as he encounters something under the water. Hinata’s surprise boner has definitely met something, something equally hard and—

They both freeze, staring at each other wide-eyed, Atsumu kinda breathing through his teeth while Hinata’s whole body buzzes with a new, wonderful electricity that he wants to keep chasing.

Atsumu looks even more flushed than before, breath coming in gasps. “Stop fuckin’ moving. Hold on a second.”

There is something about his expression that makes Hinata think maybe Atsumu doesn’t actually want him to stop—or maybe less his expression, and more the borderline rhythmic squeezing of his hands on Hinata’s hips, like Atsumu is trying to will him into moving again. Ooooooh, does this feel good for Atsumu, too?

Hinata eyes the murky water between them, hoping to see just how excited Atsumu actually is—to no avail. Welp, there's one way to tell. Hinata waits for a break between Atsumu’s hip squeezes to jerk his hips forward again, managing to bump his target on the first try, if Atsumu’s expression is anything to go by. All open mouth, head lolling back and tongue moving in interesting ways.

Hinata watches Atsumu’s tongue swipe across his lips, mirroring it with his own. His jaw works like he's trying to form words, but Hinata figures he’d better cut him off before Atsumu starts asking stupid questions again, like _‘what’_ and _‘why’_ , when it is plainly obvious to Hinata what he is doing: Making them both feel good. Duh.

“Do you want me to stop, Atsumu-san?”

Atsumu’s throat bobs; a bead of water trails down the side of his adam’s apple and Hinata has the half-lucid thought that he wants to chase it with his tongue. “W-what the fuck?”

But Atsumu’s fingers dig into the curve of Hinata’s ass, which is all the encouragement Hinata needs, so he rocks forward again, feeling himself rut up against Atsumu in the most toe-curling way. The gasp and further twitching it elicits is as perfect as a high toss in the air. He moves his hips again, and underneath him, Atsumu rocks against him, pulling a hiss from between Hinata’s teeth as they begin to move together.

Reality becomes as hot and smeared as the rest of the room, all tingly too-good feelings and wet movement and the drip of steam off the ceiling, almost in time with their ragged, hitched breaths. Atsumu’s tongue is doing that thing, where he curls it around his teeth, like a dog about to pant and Hinata saw so much of it earlier during their match that he really can’t help himself from lifting a hand from Atsumu’s shoulder to press a finger against his tongue.

Atsumu’s hips hitch up higher and faster with a sigh, eyes drifting closed as his tongue curls around Hinata’s index finger. He keeps his mouth open so Hinata can watch as the hot pink softness flutters under the press of his finger. It’s pliant and flexible and wet and Hinata needs it in his mouth. Their hips keep moving together, Atsumu’s hands squeezing his hips in time to the rhythm between them.

Hinata pulls his finger out of Atsumu’s mouth, watching it drag saliva from Atsumu’s lip to his cheek—Atsumu whines, twisting his head to chase, before Hinata presses his hand flat again Atsumu’s jaw, holding him in place. Atsumu breaths a “wha—” into his mouth as Hinata cuts him off with a kiss.

He’s always been impatient, doesn’t bother with lips, wanting to jump straight to the press of tongues and teeth. Atsumu pulls Hinata’s hips down roughly as his tongue thrusts up, tapping against Hinata’s, pressing into his own. It’s salty and wet and has way more breath involved than Hinata would have figured, but it’s also the single best feeling in the universe, maybe even moreso than the perfect spike.

And then Atsumu shifts his grip, still grinding them together, but palming and pinching Hinata’s ass as they continue to move together. It rips a needy animal sound out of Hinata’s throat that Atsumu must be trying to chase with his tongue, flicking it against the roof of Hinata’s mouth. He slides his fingers up from Atsumu’s shoulders into his hair, nearly swearing at the full body shiver Atsumu rewards him with.

He’s fascinated by the difference in texture, the soft undercut, short and velvety, ending abruptly in the coarse, gritty feel of wet, bleached hair with too much product in it. Hinata’s fingers catch accidentally and beneath him Atsumu stills as he lets out a soft, needy whine. So Hinata does it again, pulling something in Atsumu, because the hands palming Hinata’s ass squeeze, almost too hard, yanking him even closer to press them chest to chest.

The thrust of Atsumu’s tongue in his mouth feels sloppy in a way Hinata finds he wants to live in for the rest of his life. The hands holding his ass in place begin to creep lower. Hinata nearly whines between messy kisses as Atsumu’s fingers start to trail up and down the valley between Hinata’s cheeks, matching pace with the movement of their hips. Hinata starts to wonder if he’s getting light-headed from the heat or because it feels too good and he might die if Atsumu ever stops.

Hinata is so preoccupied with the overwhelming sensations of having his ass pet like a very good puppy, the wrestling his tongue is currently winning in his mouth, and the press and grind of his own length against Atsumu’s, that he almost doesn’t notice the shift in Atsumu’s fingers. In the water, a finger swirls low and teases over Hinata’s hole, and it feels so mind-bogglingly good that the haze briefly takes over.

The next thing he knows they’ve stopped grinding together and Atsumu has jerked back, a hand pressed to his mouth as he stares at Hinata accusingly.

Hinata tries to roll his hips forward, chasing sensation, but Atsumu manages to hold him in place one handed. “Didja just fucking bite me?”

Hinata blinks, trying to think through the nice good warm brain fog. “Did I?”

Atsumu’s tongue swipes out of his mouth and maybe—maybe Hinata can see it’s a little bit redder than before. But maybe kissing just _does_ that? Atsumu looks pissy. “Yeah, ya fucking bit me.”

Hinata knows he should probably feel a bit contrite. But he really doesn’t. He’s been very close to a very nice something and he really really wants to go back to chasing it. “Whoopsies.” Which isn’t an apology and they both know it. Atsumu looks really unimpressed. “Sooo... Can we go back to what we were doing, or...?”

Atsumu looks like he wants to be mulish about it, but Hinata manages to shift his hips _just so_ and he has the delightful experience of watching Atsumu go cross-eyed for a half second. “Fine.” Atsumu bites out, dipping his hand under the water again to grip Hinata’s hips. _Now they’re talking!_ “But no more kissing. Can’t trust ya for shit.”

Hinata is about to say _“But I really **liked** kissing you”_, but he’s cut off as Atsumu demonstrates a very distracting feat of strength by bodily lifting Hinata out of the water, turning him around so Hinata’s back is pressed against Atsumu’s chest.

“Wha—” He’s cut off as something magnificently hard is pressed between his cheeks. Atsumu’s hands are once again spanning his hips, large enough that his fingers curl from his kidneys all the way beyond his hipbones. The coverage is turning that warm, wiggly feeling into lava vibrating low in his stomach.

“Yeah, just like that,” Atsumu mumbles into his ear, breath puffing on the cooling moisture there, sending a shiver down Hinata’s spine. Atsumu gives an appreciative squeeze. “That’s exactly how I wantcha.”

Hinata is about to ask him what, pray tell, that is—but Atsumu is moving and the slide between his cheeks is absolutely mesmerizing and Atsumu’s breath puffs at the back of his neck, sending more electricity fizzing down his spine to pool in his stomach. The sounds alone, the shift and splash of the water as Atsumu controls their tempo, Atsumu’s breath, the smack of wet skin against the tile is driving Hinata crazy. It feels too good. But it’s not enough. At least before, Hinata had Atsumu grinding and sliding up against him, too, and now he sits here, manhandled in the most toe-curling way and he’s not getting anything but frustration. He wants to bite Atsumu again, just a little bit.

He can’t help but to palm himself as Atsumu continues to thrust between his cheeks—listening to Atsumu sigh and groan behind him is better than any porn he’s ever watched. Hinata times his own strokes to the movement of Atsumu’s hips. He feels so good, too good, too amazing. Hot and wet and he’s basically made of pure electric sensation at this point.

It only gets better though, as Atsumu’s right hand nudges off Hinata’s hip, rather rudely shoving Hinata’s hand off his own dick. He’s about to protest when Atsumu replaces it with his own, his large calloused palm engulfing him, and Hinata nearly shouts at the sensation, turning it into a keening whine at the last second. The puff of amused breath that curls around Hinata’s neck nearly makes him cum on the spot.

“Feels good?” Atsumu asks, smacking a sloppy kiss on one of the knobs of Hinata’s spine.

Hinata can only manage an incoherent whine, hands reaching to grip Atsumu’s thighs between his legs, fingers digging into the muscles as they shift and squeeze with the movement of Atsumu’s hips.

Lost in sensation, Hinata’s head tips backwards, landing on Atsumu’s shoulder as they continue to move together. And then that wonderful, wonderful mouth is on his neck, licking and sucking and kissing and scraping teeth. Atsumu is mumbling incoherent things into Hinata’s throat and he’s too hot and overwhelmed to make sense of it. “So good,” and “Just like that,” and “feels so good,” and an awful lot of swearing, spattered with hissed yeses.

A particular twist of Atsumu’s wrist has Hinata digging his nails into the meat of Atsumu’s upper thigh and it takes Hinata a full extra second to understand what is happening as the rhythm of Atsumu’s hips and hand falter. And then Atsumu swears, head thunking down onto Hinata’s shoulder. His wrist still moving, frantically trying to finish Hinata off.

It’s the full body shiver Atsumu gives that finally tips Hinata over the edge, vision all blurry, hot lightning vibrating from his core all the way out to his fingertips and tongue as he curls forward with the force of it. When he finishes, catching his breath, he collapses bonelessly back against Atsumu, head lolling. Atsumu is slumped back against the tile, his chest sucking in heavy breaths.

“Holy crap,” Hinata says, not having the mental acuity for anything else.

Atsumu doesn’t lift his head. “Hmmmngh.”

Hinata is still trying to figure out how to articulate how amazing he thinks that was when the hand gripping his hip loosens, fingers dragging up Hinata’s side, before stretching out, twisting in the air beside them. The sensation _pulls_ at something in Hinata’s stomach. He licks his lips.

“Hey, Atsumu-san?”

Underneath him Atsumu grunts. “Mmyeah, Shouyou-kun?”

Hinata leans forward so he can twist around to look Atsumu in the face. Atsumu’s head is tipped back, but his eyes, half droopy, are watching him curiously. Hinata bites his lip, feeling _almost_ greedy for what he’s about to ask.

“Let’s do that again.”

Atsumu stares at him blankly for a moment. “Wait, do ya mean like right now?”

Hinata’s eyes light up as a big goading grin stretches across his face. “Yeah. I want more. _Again_.”

Atsumu stares at him incredulously for a moment, before his eyebrows tip upwards, and a toothy grin widens to match Hinata’s own. “Yeah, okay. Again.”

\--

Atsumu walks back into the high rise hotel feeling an awful lot lighter than he had when he’d left. He is going to have to thank Aran for his suggestion to “take a break” and “go have a bath at a nearby bathhouse instead”. At the time Atsumu had kinda thought his friend was just a lame-ass old man at heart who wanted to get rid of Atsumu and his post-loss sulking, but after tonight, Atsumu is going to have to show Aran a little more appreciation.

(Though maybe Aran didn’t intend for Atsumu to have a little run in with one of the people who kicked Inarizaki’s ass earlier.)

But hey, happy little accidents, right?

Grinning, Atsumu stretches his arms up, tucking them behind his head as he makes his way towards the elevator, ready to pass the fuck out after a day of good volleyball, and maybe even better—

“Oi, what the fuck is wrong with your face?”

Atsumu stops, looking over to find Osamu and Suna lounging on some couches along the wall, phones out. Probably not even talking to each other like the pair of weirdos they are. “Shouldn’t ya be in bed?”

Osamu still looks suspicious. “Wifi ain’t very good up there.” Clicking his tongue when Atsumu rolls his eyes at them. “What the fuck happened to ya? What’s with that,” Osamu gestures at his own face, “look on your face?”

Atsumu let his arms swing down, keeping an eye on Suna lest he starts recording the interaction. “There ain’t no look. The bath did me good, is all.”

Osamu doesn’t look convinced. “Bullshit. You were in one of yer stupid-as-fuck black rages—”

“Yours are worse, dickhead.” Suna didn’t bother looking up from his phone.

Osamu ignores him, continuing to squint at Atsumu. “And ya almost punched out Oomimi-senpai—”

“That’s because _you_ dodged out of the way.”

“Suna, can ya zip it?” Osamu bites out at him, eyes never leaving Atsumu. “And ya go for a bath, for a _weirdly long time_ , might I add, and you’re all peaches and roses now?”

A brief flash of the wonderful peach Hinata Shouyou had let him touch earlier skitters through Atsumu’s mind. It’s almost as if all of Atsumu’s anger and resentment from earlier has washed away, or at least been muted during that bath. He feels good. Sated, if only briefly. His muscles ache in a nice way, he feels warm, and he now knows what the skin of one of his favorite rivals tastes like. All in all, a pretty good evening.

He gives his shitty brother a beatific smile. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Ya remember we lost, right?” For the life of him he can’t figure out why Osamu sounds so mad about it.

“Sure.” Atsumu says with a shrug.

Suna and Osamu are both looking at him like he has more screws loose than normal. Suna speaks first. “What the fuck happened at that goddamn bath?”

Atsumu can picture with a delightful amount of clarity his own dick pressed deliciously between Hinata’s perfectly round little ass cheeks, cum swirling through the water. The look in Hinata’s eyes as he twisted around, demanding _more_ in a way that made Atsumu’s stomach pull and his heart flutter just a bit. That third time he managed to make Hinata cum as they were rinsing off, teeth digging into the perfect peach of Hinata’s ass.

Atsumu lifts up his arms, tucking them behind his head again as he turns towards the bank of elevators, a slow and lazy smile pulling at his lips. Yeah, thoughts of tonight are going to carry him for a long-ass time. Probably all the way to the Inter-High next Summer, when he’ll see Hinata again, and maybe they can go for round two—or round four, if you want to get technical. Probably isn’t worth counting, when it comes to a stamina monster like Shouyou-kun.

Atsumu gives Osamu and Suna a wink as he walks away, ready to hit the sack. “Guess I must have blown off some steam.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Mortalatte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mortalatte/pseuds/mortalatte) & [Dzesi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dzesi) for the beta.


End file.
